


“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”

by yikesola



Series: fmdin2020 [13]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, M/M, non-youtuber au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: Phil doesn’t usually do this. Any of this. Go to Martyn’s shows. Kiss a stranger. Be out of the house past nine.A fic about doing things and late-night urges.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: fmdin2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995946
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Most Days in November*, Dialogue Prompt: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to
> 
> *and yes december too, fight me

Phil is never saying no when his brother invites him to one of his weird DJ gigs ever again. Not now that he knows they can end up this good. Not now that he knows he can be warm and floaty from two sweet cocktails and leaning back on one of the old sofas in the grubby nooks which this venue passes off as a green room. Not now that he’s got the prettiest guy he’s ever fucking seen kissing him and digging his nails as best he can into Phil’s shoulder through the denim jacket he should’ve thrown off long ago. 

He doesn’t usually do this. Any of this. Go to Martyn’s shows. Kiss a stranger. Be out of the house past nine. None of that since he finished uni. Then the anxiety cranked up. Then the agoraphobia went from being a quirk to a problem. Then he had to do some long hard work with a therapist to go through. 

But if that all got him here, into the arms of this guy that lets out a barely-heard moan over the sound of his brother’s set when Phil’s lips move to his neck, then Phil’s feeling just reckless enough in this moment to figure it’s all worth it. 

There’s a squeal that doesn’t come from either of them and hangs in the room. Phil pulls his head up to see Cornelia’s face as red as her hair near the open door. He immediately shoves his face back into the patch of skin in front of him only so that he can break eye-contact with her. 

“Sorry, Corn,” he shouts over the general noise around them.

“No,” she laughs, “no, my bad. I should’ve… uh, knocked.”

“There’s no door,” the fit guy with his legs still bracketing Phil’s points out. 

“Yeah,” Phil hears her laugh. “Maybe pick somewhere with a door next time.” 

“Noted,” Phil says in what he’s sure is the squeakiest voice he’s managed since puberty. He peeks from the guy’s neck and sees she’s left. The guy’s adam's apple bob’s before Phil’s eyes because he’s still laughing. Phil feels like he should apologize again, but doesn’t exactly know what for— having a brother who played at a venue with a green room that doesn’t have a door? 

“Hey,” the guy says above him, “I could really go for some late night McDonald’s.” 

*

Dan hopes the excessive carbs will sober him up enough to remember the name of the guy he picked up from the club. Or sober him up at least to enthusiastically agree to continuing what they’d started earlier. 

“These are definitely not chicken, right?” The slightly-Northern slur interrupts Dan’s thoughts. The guy is holding one of his chicken nuggets and staring at it with a careful, studied gaze. 

“I think they have to tell you nowadays if it isn’t,” Dan laughs. 

“The nineties really are dead huh.” 

“Have been for a while, mate.” 

They laugh. It’s an easy laugh. They fall into a matching rhythm. 

When a half-broken thought train of a different thought reminds Dan that this guy’s name is Phil, he dips his chips in three different celebratory sauces. “You should know,” Dan says, “I don’t usually do this.” 

“I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” Phil says. 

“Har har,” Dan rolls his eyes. “But I mean all of it, not just the stranger kissing, but the club and the 3am junk food.”

“Me neither.” Phil steals a chip from Dan’s side of the table even though he has plenty of his own still. 

“That’s _mine_!” Dan scolds. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Phil says with his tongue poking out between his teeth. 

“Sure you didn’t.” Dan kicks him under the table. 

Phil takes one of his own chips this time and says, “I never do anything.”

“Everyone does _something_ ,” Dan urges. 

“Okay, what do you do then?” Phil has a satisfied smirk on his face. Dan wouldn’t mind seeing it there for other reasons. 

“Oh, the usual stuff. Stare into the void, you know.” 

“Oh yeah,” Phil laughs. “Me and the void are old friends.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I call him Craig.” 

“I call him Pythagoras,” Dan says, reaching for the silliest name he can think of. 

“We don’t need to get into your failing maths GCSE,” Phil laughs. 

“Would you rather hear how I did geography in A-Levels?” 

Phil eats the last of his nuggets. Doesn’t even dip it in a sauce, the heathen. Still, Dan’s spine crinkles when he says, “You could tell me about it on the way back to mine.” 

*

The fact that Dan is just as good at kissing when they’ve both sober as he was when their senses were overrun back at the club seems like impossibly good luck to Phil. The fact that he bent down to talk to his fish, Norman, before they started kissing again is just icing on the cake. 

A very delicious cake that he’s ready to eat and to hell with the tummy ache he’ll get after. 

But he thinks maybe he’ll escape the tummy ache this time. He thinks the twisting in his stomach is something very different from an ache. 

It’s not a hunger; they’ve already eaten. 

It’s something eager, something good. 

Dan is something very good. 

Dan sounds amazing when the breath rushes out of him because Phil presses him against the wall. Dan sounds amazing when Phil gets his lips back onto his neck, and further— Dan’s collarbone and the edge of Dan’s jumper and Dan’s nipple when they finally pull that jumper off. 

He sounds amazing when he gets a hand on Phil’s shoulder and tells him to sit on the sofa. He sounds amazing when the little gasp falls out of his mouth when he pulls down Phil’s jeans. 

Phil isn’t sure, but he is willing to bet Dan sounds amazing when he’s sucking him off. He wants to pay attention, sure. But he’s a little distracted by the stars around his eyes and the ringing in his ears when he comes in Dan’s perfect goddamn mouth. 

“So you never do this, huh,” Phil says between sated gasps. 

“Maybe once or twice,” Dan laughs, fussing with the button of his own jeans while Phil catches his breath. 

“Maybe thrice if we get a nap in,” he jokes. 

Dan laughs at the joke. Dan’s laughter has been the best music all night. Phil won’t tell Martyn that his set ranks second.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/638797681988403200/im-sorry-i-didnt-mean-to) !


End file.
